Light in the Darkness
by khaleesiofmischief
Summary: A good dream, a bad dream; his dream is both, but at least Cersei is in it. And that dream gives him the courage to carry on after losing his hand. M to be sure.


**Well, you won't be finding much horror here, let me warn you. I'm more of a romantic writer. However, it is **_**me**_** we're talking about, so this story will be dark and twisted in its own way…Enjoy!**

**For those of you who read "In Exile": I haven't given up on it. I don't like abandoning stories, especially when they receive such feedback. This one-shot is just a break, nothing more.**

A foul smell was emanating from him. His hand around his neck was patting his chest in a rhythm similar to his heartbeat. His arm was itching. He could feel the ghost of his hand sometimes, but he knew that his hand would never grow back.

Somehow he managed to sleep. He didn't know how he managed to achieve that, but he was more than grateful to escape reality and deliver his spirit to sleep. His reality had become a living nightmare, so maybe his dreams would be more comforting, more peaceful. He hoped at least.

He dreamed of her. She was radiant. They were in a dark forest with burnt trees and black soil that seemed to have bled. However, she was radiant. A light was all around her, giving her golden hair a divine glow. She was more beautiful than ever; and that said a lot, considering that she was the most beautiful woman that Jaime had ever lay eyes upon.

And that was why he hated himself so much in that moment. He was still in his filthy rags, wearing his hand around his neck. He had always been her reflection, but now he wasn't anything near that. Now he was terrible to look at, weak, vulnerable. How could he be her protector now? How could he be her Warrior?

"Jaime", she called him in a melodic voice.

He wanted to get close to her. He wanted that more than anything. He wanted it so much that it hurt him. However, he could not. He could not go to her. He could not let her see what he had become, what kind of wreck that the great Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, was.

"Jaime", she called him again, but this time she seemed to be hurt because he would not go to her.

But he couldn't. For the life of him, he couldn't.

"Jaime, don't you love me anymore?"

He hated himself even more now. He had hurt her; she was about to cry, he could see. He had made her doubt his love for her.

"Of course I do", he said.

She smiled brightly in the darkness of the woods. "Then come to me", she told him. "Come to me and show me how much you love me."

Hesitantly, uncertainly, he went to her. He was waiting for her disapproval, for her disgust, for her rage, for her hate. And yet, none of that came. She was still smiling at him, as if they were youngsters in Casterly Rock. She was so beautiful. She looked like the Maiden more than ever now.

"Why wouldn't you come to me?" she asked. "You always come to me."

"Not like this", he said and raised his arm. Now he knew that she would cower away from him, that she would be repulsed, that she would scream at him to go away, that she would never want to see him again.

She didn't, though. The smile never left her face, not even for a heartbeat. It remained there as she looked at his hand, as if she was looking at something beautiful. She then looked up at him, eyes eager and loving, smile loving and promising. Had she truly seen?

"I don't care", she said. "It's still you. We are still one. You can be whole with me."

Jaime could not believe what he was hearing. Could Cersei really want him despite the lack of his sword hand, despite his repulsive appearance?

"You are still my brother, my other half; I still love you, no matter what."

Jaime stroked her soft cheek, making her shiver. Gods, she was so beautiful, so divine. She was perfect.

Cersei took his right arm and held it right in front of her face. She studied, looking at it intently. Jaime felt embarrassed, humiliated, but it didn't look like that was Cersei's intention. She was looking at the corruption of the flesh – which reflected the corruption of the soul – and didn't flinch, didn't wince, didn't wrinkle her nose, didn't make any comment whatsoever.

She kissed his rotten skin. She kissed it lightly so that she wouldn't hurt him. She planted soft kisses all over the infected flesh, unaffected by the stink or the awful sight and feel. She licked at the core of his maimed arm, making him groan without his will. He had groaned many times when he was with her, but he would never guess that something like this would arouse him.

She held his arm in both her hands and looked at him. Black liquid was staining her delicious lips as though she was slowly rotting herself. She was still beautiful, but now there was something horrific about her. Maybe now they were once again the reflection of one another.

"I love you", she said once again.

"I love you too", he said. "I love you more than anything, sweet sister."

He looked down for a moment. The soil had more than dried blood on it. Worms were escaping from it as if they had smelled the twins and wanted to devour them. But they were not dead yet. He wasn't dead, he knew it. He wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead—

But what about Cersei?

Had she died?

Wouldn't he have felt it? Wouldn't he be in so much pain that he would wish to be dead?

But he had been in pain when they cut off his right hand. Had Cersei died that moment? Had his hand been cut off because he could no longer be whole with his sister gone?

"Come to me, Jaime", she whispered.

"I'm right here", he told her and kissed her lips, sharing the corruption with her once again.

"Come back to me alive", she pleaded with him. "I miss you."

There were more worms coming out of his rotten arm. They were creeping on Cersei's delicate hands, on her pale arms. The worms were eating both of them. They were tasting their flesh. They were consuming them from inside out.

He kissed her once last time and told her that he loved her. It was raining blood now. The blood was staining Cersei's beautiful golden hair. Gold mixed with red. The Lannister colours showed even now.

"I will come back to you, my love", he swore. "I will."

He woke up, covered in sweat, almost panting. The hand was still around his neck. The awful smell was still around him. Cersei was not there with him anymore, even though he was in a forest and it was dark. Everyone was sleeping.

He knew what he had to do now. He had to live. He had to live for Cersei.

**I think that this is the most twisted thing I've ever written. Disturbing isn't it? Well, I don't how I came up with this. I only know that this idea would not leave my head until I turned it into a story. So, here it is. Reviews are love! x**


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